Still Fighting It
by john4096
Summary: With the mate of his dreams and an egg on his feet, Mumble is finally happy with his life...but will it last? K  for sadness I suppose.
1. Chapter 1: Good Morning, Son

Still Fighting It

**Chapter 1: Good Morning, Son**

Mumble stood, gently tapping his feet in suspense. As he watched, a sliver of gold broke the horizon, and Mumble felt the sun's warmth spread across his feathers. He heard the other males cry out in relief, and had the deepest urge to join them, but he thought better of it.

He had lost still more of his baby down since the start of the winter, but his neck and face were still as fluffy as always. His crystal blue eyes fell to his feet—light as air—where a small, speckled egg sat waiting.

Mumble looked up as shouts of joy began to break out all around him, each one emanating from an excited father watching his egg hatch. He quickly returned his gaze to his own egg expectantly.

He waited. He waited longer. As he continued to wait, newborn chicks began running all around him, their fathers chasing after their charges and laughing joyfully in spite of their exhaustion.

"Everything okay, Mumble boy?"

Mumble turned his head to see his father approaching him, smiling. Memphis was still a fair bit taller than Mumble—the tallest in the colony, no doubt—but Mumble did not need to incline his head as much as he once did. He did not carry an egg this year: he and Norma Jean had decided that one child had caused enough trouble.

"How's your egg coming along?"

Mumble was beginning to become a little concerned, but smiled back anyway. "Well, nothing's happened yet", he said, "but I hatched late, didn't I?"

Memphis looked a little troubled, "Well…yes, son. But you weren't exactly a normal egg". His face cleared again, "Heck, I wouldn't say you're a normal adult!"

Mumble laughed, "Then I don't want my chick to be normal either." His gaze returned to his egg, "It's going to be special. It'll have Gloria's voice, and Gloria's looks—"

Memphis patted his son on the back, "and your feet if we're lucky."

Mumble simply grinned humbly to himself. "If it's a boy", he continued, looking up at his father, "I want it to have your voice, pa."

Memphis was struck hard by these words. He coughed to hide the watering in his eyes, "now, now, son. Even if it has your voice it'll be the best darn Emperor Penguin to have ever walked the ice!"

"Thanks, pa", Mumble replied, beaming at his father before he left to go fishing.

As his father faded from view, Mumble again directed his attention towards his feet.

"For your sake, you'd better not have my voice", Mumble whispered to the egg, smirking, "I think the entire colony would go deaf if there were two of us."

Mumble continued to watch his egg. Every now and then he would imagine that it had made a bump, and he'd get excited; but by the time the day was half over, he began to worry a little. He was glad for the distraction when the amigos came by.

"Hey, fluffy! How's it going?", Rinaldo asked by way of greeting.

Ramon ran to the front of the group, "Where is the little niño? Come out and say hello to your Uncle Ramon!"

"Uh…it hasn't hatched yet, amigo", Nestor whispered to Ramon.

The little copper-headed penguin looked at the egg resting on Mumble's feet. "Of course it hasn't! Don't ju think I know that?", Ramon asked, feigning offense. "Don't ju think I know what an egg looks like?"

"So…when's it gonna hatch?" Raul asked, the other Adelies voicing their agreement.

"I don't know, amigos", Mumble replied. He let out a long sigh. "I'm beginning to worry, honestly."

"Aww…don't be sad!", Ramon soothed, "The amigos will make things all better!".

With that, the five little penguins turned their backs to Mumble and began whispering heatedly. Suddenly, Nestor, Lombardo, Raul, and Rinaldo began humming chords as Ramon took on the lyrics:

_Hey,' ju Don't make it sad  
__Take a bad egg  
__And make it better  
__Remember, to warm it up with your heart  
__Then you can start  
__To make it better…_

Mumble was about to burst out laughing at the display before him when he felt something bump against his legs. He looked down to see his egg bouncing left and right across his feet. He broke out into a cold sweat, nervous and excited.

"Shh! Guys! I think it's happening!"

"See? What did I tell you?", Ramon yelled. He raised his flippers, "Everybody, shut up!"

The group watched in anticipation as the egg continued to shake and jump. Eventually, the smooth shell was pierced by a tiny, orange beak. As they watched, the hole widened to allow a small, black head to pop out. With one last shiver, the chick shed the remaining fragments of her shell and looked up at her father with deep green eyes.

"Dad?"

Mumble was struck speechless by this unusual feeling. It was almost painful looking at this small, fluffy life he had brought into the world, and seeing so much of himself reflected in its eyes. He couldn't imagine a more wonderful or more terrible feeling.

"Hello there. Are you warm enough?", he asked.

"Yep". Her voice was fairly soft, much like Gloria's, but with a certain graininess that made it hard to tell whether she would be a good singer.

Slowly, the amigos began to wake from their awed daze.

"Madre Mia!", Nestor exclaimed.

"She looks just like you, fluffy!", Raul observed.

Lombardo couldn't restrain himself: "Let's hope she doesn't stay that way!"

With that the small penguins burst out into laughter, and Mumble joined in too.

"I have a feeling you're going to grow up to be just as stunning as your mother" Mumble assured his chick. "And, hopefully, a lot less reckless than your father."

"Hey 'ju!", Ramon piped up, "Little niña! Come to your uncle Ramon!"

"What are you, stupid?", Lombardo cut in, "you don't want her to freeze to death, do you?"

Ramon looked up at Mumble suddenly, ignoring Lombardo's comment. "Hey, I just noticed something! We keep saying 'she this' and 'she that'! She got a name, don't she tall guy?"

Mumble made to reply, "Yes, she does. It's—"

"—is it Celeste?", Rinaldo interrupted, "Celeste is the name of a true chica!"

"No, no, no!", Nestor contradicted, "Everybody knows that all the hot girls are all named Jasmine!"

The amigos began to argue heatedly over girls' names. Mumble sighed and rolled his eyes before looking down at his chick with an exasperated smile that told her that this sort of thing was common.

"You all crazy!", Ramon interjected. "When I have a little niña, she gonna be named Kristina!"

"That's the kind of name you give to a walrus! Besides, what do you mean, 'When'?", Nestor poked, "I think you mean 'if'. And based on your track record, I'm surprised you've bothered giving it any thought at all."

"Hey, hey, hey!" Ramon spread his flippers out, trying to exert some kind of authority, "Who is this guy, insulting me like this? I think you're just jealous that Ramon has all the good looks! And last I checked, you don't got any love stones either—"

"Guys. Guys!" Mumble yelled, and the group fell silent. "Gloria and I talked about this already." He looked down into his child's face and returned her smile. In a soft voice he said: "Your name's Emaline."


	2. Chapter 2: Questions

**Chapter 2: Questions**

The sun hung low over the horizon as it always did on a late summer's evening. After their first day of life, the newly hatched chicks were all being sung to sleep by their fathers, who were exhausted from answering never-ending strings of questions. Emaline looked around at her peers. Little bits of lullabies reached her ears from a distance, and she inclined her head to look at her own father expectantly.

"Aren't you going to sing me a lullaby, daddy?"

Mumble looked a little flustered, "Uh…no, sorry I—"

"Why not?". Her voice was more curious than demanding, and it reminded him of Gloria a little.

"Well, I—"

"He don't wanna give you nightmares, that's why!", Ramon interjected.

"Yeah", Rinaldo cut in, "you've got your whole life to look forward to going deaf!"

"He might attract a sperm whale!"

"Or crack the ice!"

"Or start an avalanche!"

"All right, all right", Mumble conceded good-naturedly. He turned to Emaline, "Let's just say I'm not the best singer—"

"Not by a long shot!"

"I've heard fish sing better!"

"Ramon can _flirt_ better than you can sing!"

Ramon turned to Raul at that last comment, "Hey! What's that supposed to mean, eh?"

Rinaldo replied, "Come on, Ramon! When was the last time you brought a chica back to your nest? When was the last time you brought _anyone_ back to your nest? When was the last time you _had_ a nest?"

Mumble just laughed a little and rolled his eyes. "They do this a lot", he told Emaline. "It seems annoying now, but once you get older you'll find it hilarious."

Emaline smiled and returned her attention to the bickering penguins. She laughed as Ramon struck Rinaldo across the face with his flipper, "I find it funny now!"

They watched the bickering penguins for a while in silence, before Mumble spoke again. "Don't worry, Emaline. _I_ may not be a good singer, but every time your mother opens her beak…", he was reminded of what his father told him about his own mother when he was little, "…it darn near breaks your heart."

He looked down at her again, "you know, you look just like she did when she was young. I remember still. Her head was black all around, just like yours. And she always did this cute thing where she'd swing her shoulders side to side. Except, she had deep brown eyes—eyes you could get lost in. Your eyes are more like mine…"

"Dad", Emaline asked, "why is your face different than the other dads?"

"Uh…", Mumble, again, found himself at a loss for words for a moment when Ramon answered for a second time.

"Let's just say this: be happy your papa is more careful than _his_ papa!"

"Come on, Ramon, that's not fair!"

"Not fair! Look at him! If _I_ looked like that, I would kill myself!"

"Trust me, amigo, you ain't exactly easy on the eyes either!"

"Oh yeah! What's that you call sticking out of your head, Nestor? What kind of bird has hair like that!"

"This from the guy wearing a wig of dead grass!"

"Everyone knows that the chicas _really_ dig the bald penguins!"

They all turned, "Shut up Raul!"

"Shh! Guys!" Mumble raised his flippers in front of him to silence them, "She's trying to sleep!"

The nearest amigo smacked Ramon across the back of the head, and they all fell silent. Emaline sighed deeply before closing her dark green eyes. When they were sure that she was soundly asleep, the adults began to whisper to each other.

"That's one beautiful chick you got there, amigo", Nestor commented.

"She gonna have all the guys drooling at her feet!", Rinaldo insisted.

Mumble sighed. "Yeah", he agreed, half-heartedly. Something was bothering him, something that had worried him since the moment he first saw his daughter. His eyes dropped sadly to Emaline's sleeping form. "It's just…"

"What?"

"What is it?"

"What's the matter?"

He looked up at his friends, "What if I'm not a good father?"

The words seemed to echo across the ice. Voicing his fear made it sound ridiculous, like being afraid of getting wet. Still, he couldn't shake this feeling—that this little penguin's life was in his flippers. What if he messed up?

He knew Gloria would be a great mother. She was kind, patient, caring. She always knew what to say and what to do. How could he hope to compare with her? And what would she think of him if he was incompetent?

"Listen, amigo", Nestor began, "nobody's perfect. You're bound to make mistakes. But as long as you're trying your best to care for her, and love her, and teach her what she needs to know, that little niña's going to be grateful."

Mumble felt himself smile at the little penguin's kind words.

"And we'll be here to help you", Lombardo added.

"Yeah, all of us!", Raul said.

The other amigos began voicing their support. Mumble felt the weight on his chest lift a little. He would prove himself to Gloria, to Emaline. As his mood improved, he began to feel more like himself again.

"Well, I don't know about _all_ of you", Mumble chided, "Maybe Ramon can give his support from a distance!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah!", Ramon said, this time without any trace of insult. "Always Ramon!".

The amigos all bid their farewells, and sang themselves off stage as usual:

_Well now, don't get me wrong  
__'__Cause, oh, I  
__Like this neighbourhood  
__Yeah, and seeing you was good_

_But now we've spent the day  
__So completely re-inspired  
__Asking 'why, oh why am I so tired?'_

And so, the Adelie penguins made their way back to Adelie Land, leaving Mumble alone with his daughter. It had been quite a day. He felt awfully drained from all of the worry and excitement, and took one last look at his child before closing his eyes:

"You're so much like me. I'm sorry."


	3. Chapter 3: Wives Ho!

**Chapter 3: Wives Ho!**

"Are you ready to meet your ma, Emaline?", Mumble smiled down at his chick, the cold blue ocean meeting the warm green lake.

"How will I know which one's my mama?", Emaline asked. Mumble smiled: she was a very curious penguin. This was probably the thousandth time he had described Gloria to her. But he didn't mind: he found Emaline's inquisitive nature cute, and very similar to his own—and he never got tired of talking about Gloria.

He turned his head sideways. His father, Memphis, was standing beside him. Mumble gave him a meaningful look and he replied: "Oh, you'll know." Memphis smiled.

"Wives ho!"

"Stay with me, Emaline. I don't want you to get lost.", Mumble told his daughter, remembering how he had been when he was younger.

The two set off in search of their missing part. They wove their way through the black, white, and yellow sea of Emperor penguins, all rushing to find their mates. Names echoed across the ice as the males called out to their loved ones.

Mumble remained silent.

"Aren't you going to call to her, daddy?", Emaline asked, her voice surprisingly clear despite the din.

Mumble felt a little embarrassed, "I'd rather not. Bad things happen when I push my voice too hard. Besides…", he looked down at her, smiling in spite of himself, "I tend to stand out in a crowd"

Emaline laughed. "Don't worry, daddy: you're special!"

"If you think I'm special, wait until you meet your mother." He sighed deeply, "Where is she?"

"—Mumble! Mumble!"

Shivers ran down Mumble's spine. Only one penguin in the world had a voice that smooth, or that sweet.

"Gloria!"

And he saw her. As one of the other females moved out of the way, there she stood. Her eyes met his, and it was as if the earth had stopped turning. He rushed towards her, careful not to lose Emaline sitting on his feet.

"Gloria!"

"Mumble!"

They embraced for far too short a time, but to Mumble it was enough to last the rest of his life. They nuzzled each other's necks before stepping back to take a good look at one another.

"My, my, twinkletoes! You've grown up!", she indicated his now down-free chest. Her eyes move upward to his head, "Good to see you've still got that cute, fluffy face of yours though."

Mumble could feel himself blushing beneath his feathers. "Oh, Gloria. I missed you so much—"

"—Mama?"

Gloria gasped, raising a flipper to her beak. "Emaline?", she said in a quiet voice.

The small chick ran out from underneath her father and wrapped herself around Gloria's legs. For a moment, Mumble simply watched as Gloria looked down at her daughter with an expression that said that she was feeling the same mix of pain, pride, and excitement that Mumble had experienced not so long ago.

"Oh, Mumble…she's…"

"I know", Mumble said, "She's just like you. Beautiful, smart, curious…", he grinned, "…and very fish."


	4. Chapter 4: Goodnight

**Chapter 4: Goodnight**

The trio, after many hours of catching up, had returned to their nest and the three penguins were getting ready to sleep.

"Will you sing for me, mommy?", Emaline pleaded. "Daddy said he can't sing, but he told me your voice would break my heart!"

Gloria looked over at her mate, raising her eyebrows, "Really? Well, it certainly seemed to work on him." She returned her gaze to Emaline's curious green eyes, "But to be fair, he broke my heart without a song."

Mumble could tell from Emaline's facial expression that this new information had her bursting with more questions. "It's a long story, Emaline", he said in a soft voice. In fact, he was surprised at how much control he seemed to have over his voice lately. He continued, "It can wait until tomorrow. For now, it's time for you to rest."

Gloria closed her eyes in concentration for a moment. Unlike many of the other parents, she put the effort into making her lullabies meaningful, sometimes more so than she realized. She put so much effort into these short songs, that even Mumble found himself intrigued to hear them. Finally, Gloria took a deep breath and began:

_Goodnight, goodnight  
__Sweet baby  
__The world has more for you  
__Than it seems_

_Goodnight, goodnight  
__Let the moonlight  
__Take the lid  
__Off your dreams_

With that, the chick closed her eyes and slowed her breathing.

For the first time since the fall, the two lovers found themselves alone together. Mumble's insides squirmed, a little of his younger shyness returning. Gloria's presence always had a profound effect on him, but over time he had grown to be much more comfortable around her. However, doubts were clawing for attention at the back of his mind, and it was difficult for him to enjoy Gloria's company.

She looked at him with a slightly worried expression: she knew something was wrong.

"Mumble, what's the matter?", she asked in a soft voice, "You don't seem yourself lately."

Mumble kept meeting her gaze, only to look down again, or to the side. He found it hard to explain himself to her—he could hardly explain his feelings himself.

"It's just that…I've been thinking about things…"

"Oh? About what things?"

"Well…it's just…I…."

Gloria chuckled a little, "Come on, twinkletoes. What's wrong? Tell me."

He took a deep breath. "Well…I look at Emaline, and I look a the other fathers, and how well you handle things, and…", he sighed, "What if I'm not good enough?"

"What?", Gloria said, a little confused, but mostly concerned.

"What if I'm not a good father? Or a good husband? I mean…", he turned his back to her. If he couldn't see her expression, he thought, it would be easier for him to say. "I've always been running off…and I've nearly gotten myself killed about a thousand times. I just worry I won't be able to care for Emaline properly, or keep her safe."

He felt Gloria place her flipper on his shoulder. She turned him around gently and kissed him. "It's okay Mumble. You'll be a great father. You've already done such a great job!"

She was staring hard into his eyes, and he knew she was trying to read his thoughts. He gave a forced smile, "I know". He didn't fool her.

She smirked mockingly, "Do you need me to sing you a lullaby too?"

Mumble grinned honestly this time, and he felt a little more reassured. "I just worry sometimes."

"I know, Mumble…I know". She nuzzled up against him and began to sing:

_I  
__Don't get  
__Many things right the first time_

_In fact  
__I am told  
__That a lot_

_Now I know all the wrong turns  
__The stumbles and falls  
__Brought me here_

_And in a brown sea of eyes  
__I see one pair that I  
__Recognize_

_And I know…_

_That I am  
__I am  
__I am  
__The luckiest_

He had to admit, Gloria's song did wonders to ease his fears. As he felt her body beside him, her chest rising and falling as she slept, he realized just how lucky he was. With a shock he finally grasped that he felt truly happy—truly satisfied with his life.

Maybe everything would be okay after all.


	5. Chapter 5: Tiny Dancer

**Chapter 5: Tiny Dancer**

She looked out at the wave of hatchlings, gradually making their way towards her. Her eyes scanned the many young faces—some excited, some apprehensive, some intensely disappointed. For years now she had been teaching at Penguin Elementary, and she felt that she had seen it all: the brilliant singers, the mediocre singers; the nervous wrecks, the centers of attentions; and even, last year, the most unique chick of all.

And so, it was with confidence that she stood before her class that day, all watching her attentively, hanging on her every word. Younglings everywhere, every year, always had that in common: they had insatiably curious minds.

Today was her favourite day: the heart song lesson. Who among these future penguins would surprise her? Who would break her heart? Who would make her laugh, make her cry? She told her charges to close their eyes, and listen for that voice inside them. Listen to their heart. As was expected, every single student raised his or her flipper, jumping and trying to be picked.

She looked around at the eager faces, trying to decide who would go first. Suddenly, something flashed green in the sea of brown. She stared in disbelief. Could it be?

It was Emaline. Her head was covered in pure black down, without the usual gray fluff at the back. Only two penguins she had ever known had looked like that when they were younger—and, in fact, one of them still looked like that. And those eyes…they could only mean one thing.

"You there, Emaline", she pointed at the chick. "Why don't we see what you can do?"

Ms. Viola waited in suspense. Which of her parent's voices had Emaline inherited? She watched as the chick took a deep breath:

_Oh, look at all the lonely penguins  
__Oh, look at all the lonely penguins_

The class became hushed as Emaline's melodious voice reverberated off the icy walls. It was as smooth as the ice itself, but with slight hints of her father's roughness that somehow served to enhance rather than ruin the tone.

_Emaline quickly,  
__Picks up the rice  
__At a church  
__Where a wedding  
__Has been_

_Is it a dream?_

Ms. Viola was amazed at how beautifully Emaline's voice changed pitches. There was no squeaking, no uncertainty—just perfect accuracy. She was so distracted that she almost failed to notice that Emaline was now tapping her tiny feet to the beat of the song. She wasn't quite at Mumble's level, but she was certainly better than anyone else, and only a few months old!

_Waits at the window  
__Wearing a face  
__That she keeps  
__In a jar  
__By the door_

_Who is it for?_

The penguins were mesmerized. Adults passing by stood cemented to the ground, struck by this performance. Emaline was positively skating across the ice now, and Ms. Viola caught herself wishing it would never end.

_All the lonely penguins  
__Where do they all come from?  
__All the lonely penguins  
__But do they all belong?_

With that Emaline closed her beak, and stood still. Everyone was silent. The little penguin started to absent-mindedly swing her flippers—much as her mother did—from side to side. She seemed to be patiently awaiting Ms. Viola's response, not betraying the slightest sign of nervousness.

"My dear…that was…", she cleared her throat. "Well, I can see that you're definitely your parents' child! That was truly wonderful!" She gave a short cough and forced herself to continue with the lesson, "Excellent, excellent. So, who will go next? Let me see…"

Before she could make her choice, a very raw, but steady and powerful voice broke out at the back of the class. It was not the smoothest voice Ms. Viola had ever heard, but it was surprisingly pleasant and immensely well controlled.

_I wish it was  
__Last September  
__When we could lose ourselves in crowds everyday_

'_Cause Emaline,  
__She don't walk in time  
__She's not the same that's all you can say_

_And when I've heard enough  
__I tell myself  
__That we've learned our lesson  
__But I_

_Don't wanna walk away from Emaline…_

The young male broke off there—slightly embarrassed, but smiling nonetheless.

Ms. Viola was shocked at how specific the song was, as though Ben had invented it that very second. And yet, it didn't sound thrown together or gimmicky, but very honest and effective. "Well, that was very good Ben! An interesting choice!"

The teacher could see her two pupils eying each other in deep interest. How cute it was, young love. It reminded her of when Mumble and Gloria had been in her class. She would always stand up for him, and he would always seem so awed by her. It was this sort of thing that made Ms. Viola love teaching: being a part of these young lives, and watching them grow.

She admitted that she had been worried when she first discovered that Mumble's offspring was to be in her class. What if she couldn't sing? What if she couldn't dance? Would she develop normally? And what when it came time to find a mate? But her fears had been put to rest. Finally, she would have a quiet year…a peaceful year.

She set out to find another volunteer, but as her eyes were about to leave Emaline, the hatchling's head turned and what Ms. Viola saw sent her heart plummeting. No, it couldn't be! Of all people! Why did these things always happen in her class?

A dreaded thought entered her mind: she would have to tell Mumble.

How much bad news could one penguin take?


	6. Chapter 6: Time Takes Time, You Know

**Chapter 6: Time Takes Time, You Know**

Mumble watched from a distance, amused, as Emaline played with her new friend, Ben. She had returned from school that day bursting with stories. She told him how impressed the teacher had been with her singing, how she had acted on her instinctual urge to dance to the music, how this boy in her class had written a song about her…and all sorts of other details Mumble couldn't quite remember. It made Mumble happy, listening to these stories and knowing that his daughter was free from the life he had known.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a figure approaching him. He turned, expecting to see Gloria returning from fishing, and was surprised to see someone much older ascending the small hill. When she reached him, he could see that Ms. Viola had a very troubled look on her face, as though she was being tormented mentally. He found himself starting to worry simply being near her.

"Ah, Mumble. Good. I was hoping to speak with you and Gloria". His old school teacher was fidgeting with her flippers, and not blinking nearly often enough to be comfortable.

"Oh, well…uh…Gloria's gone out fishing. Do you want to, maybe, come back later?" Mumble liked the idea of postponing this meeting, for he could sense that whatever Ms. Viola had to say, it was not something he wanted to hear.

"Uh…yes…maybe that would be best…", she looked at the ground thinking, mumbling something. "No, no! I'm afraid it can't wait. I hate to say it, but I have some bad news". As though with a great effort, Ms. Viola raised her head to meet his cold, blue eyes. "It's about Emaline…"

Mumble knew this was coming—why else would she be here? Still, having her say it aloud made his chest constrict with fear. He tried to keep his voice calm, and again he succeeded: "What is it? Is it serious?"

She just nodded slightly, staring at the ground intently. She drew a deep breath, seemingly summing up the strength for what she was about to say.

"In class today—well, I'm sure you know. Emaline performed outstandingly. Her voice as sweet as her mother's", she looked at him, "her feet as light as her father's."

She sighed heavily, "I had high hopes for her. I was happy to see that she would be able to live a normal life. In fact, one student—Ben—already seems to be showing an interest in her." With that she pointed at the two children, talking to each other a short ways off. "But then I noticed the back of her head…and…well…there was a bump there."

Mumble figured he should feel relieved; just a bump? He had been worried that it was something much more serious. Still, he refused to let down his guard. "Well, I don't know where she got that—we've been very careful with her—but she hasn't complained—"

"—no, no. I'm not implying an injury, I trust you were very careful indeed given your personal experiences". She paused for a second, as though reconsidering her last statement. She continued anyway, "I don't know how to tell you this, but that bump…it is a symptom of a very rare and serious disease—"

"—disease!" Mumble's eyes widened in fear. He placed his flippers on Ms. Viola's shoulders and turned her to face him. "What's going to happen to her? Will she be okay? Is there anything we can do?"

"Oh, she'll be fine…for the most part", Ms. Viola continued, trying to keep her own voice from trembling. "There aren't any other visible symptoms". She hesitated for a moment, readying herself, "But I'm afraid her life will be shortened dramatically."

Mumble stood there, beak agape. For a while he simply stared into his old teacher's downcast face, his heart thumping in his chest and his mind frantically processing this information. Eventually, he found the strength to speak again:

"But, she's only a few months old!", Mumble didn't know how he thought saying this would change anything, but it seemed important. "She's hardly lived any of her life yet! She still needs to grow up! To graduate, find a mate, have an egg, grow old!". He realized that his voice had risen steadily, and he was practically yelling at the poor woman, who had suffered this torment along with him. He forced himself to calm down a little, and in an almost resigned manner he asked: "How long does she have?"

Ms. Viola shook her head sadly, "I don't know. It could be a few weeks, it could be a few years. But the clock will simply keep ticking…and one day it'll stop."

Mumble could think of nothing else to say. It was too much. The news had broken something deep inside him, and he could no longer feel anything. He barely noticed Ms. Viola waddling off depressingly. He shouldn't have been surprised at this: bad things always happened to him. It was as if the whole world conspired against his happiness.

And, for the first time in his life, Mumble found himself praying to the Great 'Guin, desperately pleading for his daughter's health.

_I have to tell Gloria_, Mumble thought.

No. What point was there in worrying her? Mumble was used to worrying: he had done it near constantly when he was younger. He would carry this burden alone. He returned his gaze to Emaline, playing on the ice. But somehow, he couldn't keep the ticking sound out of his head.


	7. Chapter 7: Too Soon

**Chapter 7: Too Soon**

The years had passed by in a blur. Emaline had shed her baby down completely, growing to be very similar to her mother—the markings on her flippers and the tint in her eyes the only hints of her father. In what felt like mere seconds, she had graduated and gone out on her first hunt, returning a fully-fledged penguin. And now, here she was, talking to her parents about the upcoming mating season.

She still had a slight bump on the back of her head, but it was hardly noticeable, and did nothing to take away from the handsome features she had inherited from her mother. Despite his better judgement, Mumble was beginning to hope that maybe, just maybe, Ms. Viola had been wrong.

Gloria looked at her child, all grown up. Mumble could tell that she was fighting back tears of pride, her wonderful brown eyes watering slightly.

She sighed, "You're not a baby any more, Emaline. Soon you're going to be choosing a mate, starting a family." She put a flipper on her daughter's shoulder, "Do you have anyone in mind?" She raised her eyebrows a little, "I hear Ben's become quite the musician."

Emaline pondered this for a while, "Yeah, Ben's a great guy. But I'm not sure if he sees us as anything more than just friends."

Mumble spoke up, confused: "Didn't he write an entire song about you though? You two seemed so perfect for each other when you were little."

"Yeah, but now he's written songs for nearly every penguin that's ever walked the ice. Annie, Cathy, Lisa, Judy, Kate…not just girls either. He's written songs about Fred and Stan…" She didn't look sad, just curious, calculating. "How am I supposed to know whether he's really right for me?"

"Sometimes", Gloria began, before looking Mumble in the eyes, "you just know."

Mumble couldn't help but smile. He always smiled when Gloria looked at him like that. He felt it was his turn to say something, "If someone like me could end up with a penguin as kind and beautiful as your mother", he moved his gaze from Gloria's brown eyes to Emaline's green ones, "Then someone like you has nothing to worry about."

Emaline smiled back: she wasn't the kind of penguin that spent much time worrying about things. "I can't wait for tomorrow! All the singing and dancing…it seems so exciting!" She closed her eyes and began tapping to some imaginary tune.

Mumble watched proudly as his only child tapped in perfect time. He didn't know what song she was tapping to, but it didn't matter: he could recognize her expert movements. His daughter had grown to have everything he had hoped for her.

It was getting a little late.

"Don't wear yourself out, Emaline. You'll need your energy for tomorrow", Mumble advised, "I know I did."

"Don't worry", Emaline replied, "I can…handle…myself". She began panting heavily, and she was suddenly missing beats.

"Emaline? What's the matter?", Gloria asked, sensing that something was wrong. She took a few tentative steps towards her daughter. "Are you tired?"

Emaline went limp and collapsed in a heap. With a shock, Mumble knew exactly what was going on. His thoughts were raging: It can't be! Not now! This is too soon! He rushed towards his daughter, lying on the ground, motionless. He placed his hand on her chest. She was still breathing! It wasn't too late!

Gloria went for help, and soon a crowd had gathered around what was speculated to be the most promising female penguin of her generation. Mumble watched as though through a thick haze as a group of penguins lifted Emaline and began carrying her to the hollowed out ice cave, quickly getting her out of the glare of the sun.

As they followed the crowd, Gloria looked to Mumble worriedly, questioning him with her eyes. He simply stared back, unsure how to answer.


	8. Chapter 8: Songs of Love

**Chapter 8: Songs of Love**

Mumble stood in the cave, staring at his daughter. His eyes constantly checking to see that her chest was still rising and falling, that she was still breathing…that she was still alive. He had explained everything to Gloria, fearing that she would be angry with him, but she had simply pressed herself against his side as he wrapped his flipper around her. The remaining baby down on his upper body was now soaked with her tears. Nonetheless, Gloria had remained strong and silent.

Mumble's own eyes burned slightly, but he was long past sadness. He had known all along that it had been too good to last. Now, it was only a matter of time before his eyes—moving ever so slightly to track their target—would stop, and Mumble felt as if his own heart would cease with hers.

Through the mouth of the cave, a lean, slightly short penguin approached the two distraught parents. He had circles around his eyes, which gave him a piercing, intelligent look. However, the sharp blades of his pupils were dulled significantly by newly forming tears, not quite able to break free of their watery prison.

Mumble simply nodded to Ben. The simple act of appearing here confirmed that which Mumble had long suspected: he was deeply and truly in love with his daughter. Mumble's feelings for Gloria had been the same: always there but not, at first, recognized. And now, his daughter would never know the truth. This final time, her curiosity would not be satisfied.

Mumble watched as Ben walked over to Emaline, who was lying on a raised slab of ice. He rested his flipper on her shoulder, looking down into her tranquil face. He began to say something, but his voice broke. He continued to stare down at her in silence for a while, before taking another deep breath. When he sang, the words and music were all too appropriate to Mumble. It sounded as though the song was meant to be happy—just as this day was meant to be happy—but had been changed to reflect Ben's current mood. And beneath all that was a slight pain, a sense of longing.

_The lights are off again  
__She took me by surprise  
__She's so sensitive  
__And stuff just happens sometimes_

_She's my everything  
__She's my best friend and more  
__We don't do anything  
__We didn't do the day—_

_Before you go  
__You ought to know  
__That I didn't mean to hurt you  
__And I wanted you to know_

_Losing Emma…  
__Losing Emma…  
__Losing Emma and there's nothing I can do_

Ben had clearly skipped some parts, barely able to contain his sobs. His tears, having finally broken free, were now streaming down his face, soaking into his feathers. With a last, sorrowful look, he took his leave. Mumble almost wanted to go with him—to get as far away from the truth as he could.

Emaline's breathing had slowed significantly, her feathers barely ruffling as they moved. It would not be long now, Mumble thought. All of his memories—all of their time together—were now flashing in his mind. The ones that stood out most clearly were the simple ones: watching Gloria feed her, answering her simple questions. Mumble looked over at Gloria; her eyes were closed.

"Are you going to be okay, Gloria?", he asked, forgetting to be surprised at the softness of his voice.

She shook her head, her eyes shut tight. When she opened them again to look at him, her expression was pained. "I'm sorry, Mumble. I can't take it anymore. It's just too much."

She slowly moved herself out from under his flipper, and turned her back on the scene. As she left, she too laid her feelings down for the daughter who couldn't hear her.

_Woke up sad from this dream I've been having  
__The last couple nights or so_

_With the fathers  
__And mothers  
__Were all at the funeral  
__Carrying a bird through the rain_

_And somebody says:  
_"_It has always been this way"_

_Always someone's carrying  
__There was, always someone carrying  
__Always someone's carrying  
__Emma._

Now Mumble stood alone, looking at his daughter. He had been alone most of his life, and the feeling was all too familiar. Still, he couldn't shake this sense of determination. He had to do something. He took one last look around. No one would know.

He moved beside his daughter—so close that he could hear the slight rattling of her shallow breaths. He calmed his own breathing, and closed his eyes. When he started, it was still with a rough, squeaky voice, but it was somehow much smoother and well controlled than before. Had anyone been listening, they would have had no trouble identifying the mood of the song.

_Good morning chick  
__I am a bird  
__Maybe we'll all go down and have a few fish_

_And I can tell  
__You about that day  
__And how I picked you up and everything changed_

_It was pain  
__Sunny days and rain  
__I knew you'd feel the same things_

_Everybody knows  
__It hurts to grow up  
__And everybody does  
__It's so weird to be back here  
__Let me tell you what  
__The years go on and_

_We're still fighting it  
__We're still fighting it  
__Oh, we're still fighting it  
__We're still fighting it_

_And you're  
__So much  
__Like me  
__I'm sorry_

At last his tears fell, as icy blue as the oceans that birthed them. Emaline had stopped breathing during the song, and Mumble bowed his head, his flipper on her shoulder. He cried hard and earnestly for the first time in his life. He had been sad many times, but nothing could have prepared him for this—the sheer hopelessness. As his sobs grew more powerful, his flipper slipped lower on Emaline's body, and he was so encased in his sorrow that Mumble, at first, didn't notice the small vibrations traveling through his arm.

A heartbeat.


	9. Chapter 9: The Song Became Love

**Chapter 9: The Song Became Love**

_Oh, look at all the lonely penguins  
__Oh, look at all the lonely penguins_

Emaline belted out her heart song, carefully listening—waiting for the man with a tune to match hers.

_Emaline, quickly  
__Picks up the rice  
__At a church  
__Where a wedding  
__Has been_

_Is it a dream?_

Straight ahead of her, a very familiar penguin raised its head to join her.

_I wish it was  
__Last September  
__When we could lose ourselves in crowds everyday_

_'Cause Emaline  
__She don't walk in time  
__She's not the same  
__That's all you can say_

Ben was singing to her, and it was suddenly just like that day at school. Emaline joined in, adding her perfect voice to his perfect song.

_But when I've heard enough  
__I tell myself  
__That we've learned our lesson  
__But I  
__Don't wanna walk away from Emaline_

They were dancing together now. And singing together. And together, they were one.

Mumble was watching this from a distance. Emaline had made a miraculous recovery that made him understand why the other's put so much faith in the Great 'Guin. All that remained of her illness was the small bump at the back of her head, somewhat diminished. Now, she and Ben sang to each other alone, re-enacting the mating ceremony they had missed. He felt a flipper wrap itself around his waist.

"They're kind of cute, huh twinkletoes?", Gloria asked, eying him mischievously.

Mumble returned the grin, "Yeah. But they have nothing on us."

Gloria laughed, "Why don't we go show them how it's done?"

The two nodded and made their way out onto the open ice with Emaline and Ben. Understanding their intentions, Emaline broke into a new song that was almost too appropriate:

"Help!", she yelled.

Mumble was confused but Gloria caught on: "I need somebody!"

"Help!"

This time Ben cut-in: "Not just anybody!"

"Help!"

The three penguins turned to Mumble expectantly. What the heck?, he thought. "You know, I need someone!"

"Help!"

_Ooh, when I was younger  
__So much younger than today (oh)_

_I never needed  
__Anybody's help  
__In any way_

_But now  
__These days are gone  
__I'm not so self-assured (now I find)_

_Now I find  
__I've changed my mind  
__And opened up the door_

_Help me if you can I'm feeling down (feeling down)  
__And I do appreciate you being 'round (being 'round)  
Help me get my feet back on the ground_

_Won't you please, please help me?_

And the four of them spent the day singing and dancing. Emaline taught Ben how to tap, and convinced Mumble to join in the singing. His voice had improved, but was still horrible when compared to the others. Still, he didn't care,

Because for the second time in his life, Mumble was truly happy.


	10. Chapter 10: Epilogue

**Chapter 10: Epilogue**

Mumble gave Gloria one last hug before saying goodbye. Beside him, Emaline was nuzzling Ben, who was balancing a white sphere on his feet. The females were leaving for yet another long winter.

This was only his second winter without Gloria, and Mumble already missed her. Worse, still, he would be without his daughter as well. This year, however, he would not be meticulously protecting an egg—it was simply too soon after all that had happened.

Soon, Emaline pulled herself from her mate's embrace, and set off with Gloria and the other females. Mumble looked over at Ben. He looked the same way Mumble remembered feeling last winter: excited, scared, lonely…and tired.

"So…", he asked, somewhat awkwardly. He liked Ben, but he had never spoken to him much. "Have you decided on a name yet?"

Ben looked thoughtful, "we decided that if it was a girl it would be named Gracie" he replied.

"And if it's not?"

Ben looked over at him, "I wanted to call it Louis, but Emaline had her heart set on Mambo".

Mumbled couldn't help but grin. "I'm afraid she inherited her stubbornness from me".

Ben frowned at him. His intelligent eyes no longer seemed piercing to Mumble, but rather sincere. "What was it like, when she hatched?"

Mumble looked out over the horizon, putting his flipper on his son-in-law's shoulder. He felt unusually wise when he said: "I was the saddest, most painful thing I've ever experienced…and I'd give anything to do it again."

* * *

Songs in order of appearance:

"Hey Jude" by the Beatles (modified)  
"Silver Street" by Ben Folds (modified)  
"Lullabye" by Ben Folds  
"The luckiest" by Ben Folds (modified)  
"Elanore Rigby" by the Beatles (modified)  
"Emaline" by Ben Folds  
"Losing Lisa" by Ben Folds (modified)  
"Carrying Cathy" by Ben Folds (modified)  
"Still Fighting It" by Ben Folds (modified)  
"Help" by the Beatles

I do not own any of these songs, nor do I own Happy Feet

Well, that was fun. As you can see, I really like Ben Folds, and he was somewhat of an inspiration for the character "Ben" in the story. I know this story is null and void with the upcoming Happy Feet Two, but I decided to do it anyway. I liked the idea of a less death-ridden one for once. I also seem to be unable to resist the urge to have Mumble sing, so I decided to have his voice improve slightly, just as he is constantly losing more of his baby feathers. As always, please review and let me know what you think!


End file.
